1. I Am A Slut!


    Date: 9/25/2015, Categories: Taboo, Author: Californiaman, Rating: 11, Source: LushStories

    I am a slut! But I am a very selective slut. If you think I am going to spread my legs for you just because you have come on to me, you will likely be disappointed. I guess I came to 'sluttiness' early and naturally. In my early teens, when I felt the first stirrings of sexuality, I found my mother’s store of sex toys hidden in a bedroom drawer, which was usually locked. She was out and I was prowling through her room when I came upon the unlocked drawer. I couldn’t then imagine the purpose of the various items, although now I well know what each was and have my own store of similar items. A much larger and more varied store than Mom’s. I was an early developing young woman. By the time I was fourteen, I was the tallest girl in my class and had sprouted an impressive pair of breasts. I was thrilled with them, as were the boys in school. The girls were jealous. At the same time, I became acutely aware of the difference between boys and men. It was men who attracted me, and caused my pussy to moisten and tingle. Specifically, my stepfather principally attracted me, although there were certainly others - my doctor, my teacher, a neighbor. It was my stepfather, however, who first noted my emerging sexuality intuited and who, out of the kindness of his heart, undertook to introduce me to the pleasures in which I now find such delight. Along with my maturing body, I began to develop that feminine sixth sense which alerts one to a masculine interest in one. A tone of voice, a ...
    prolonged glance, a lingering touch. I don’t now remember what alerted me to Dad’s piqued interest. I suppose between my pride in my developing body, and his increased attentiveness and generosity, my intuition was that one might have been the genesis of the other. This all came to a head shortly after my sixteenth birthday. Mom was called away on business. By this time I had figured out the purpose of Mom’s cache of toys and had begun to accumulate toys of my own and to experiment with them. I masturbated regularly. That is to say when I woke up in the morning, in the afternoon after school, and in the evening when I retired. Perhaps, somehow, Dad had become aware of this propensity. One evening while Mom was gone, Dad fixed a particularly nice dinner and presented it more elegantly than usual. It was ordinary for me to have a bit of wine with dinner, usually cut with an equal part of water. On this evening, Dad omitted the water and refilled my glass when it was emptied. I had a sense of being particularly special, and of this being a particularly special occasion, although the only thing out of the ordinary was that Mom was away and not expected home for several days. It was just the two of us. I was swelled up with pride and wine. As I have mentioned, my stepfather was the man who principally attracted me. I masturbated to my mental image of him between my legs. The handle of my hairbrush frequently stood in for his imagined cock. It was his name which I whispered as I urged ...
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